Chapter Text
It's anticlimactic, really, the whole court process. It takes longer than any of them could have anticipated. Days fade into weeks, slowly ticking by with interrogations and questioning and evidence from years past being dragged up to the surface.
Taehyung doesn't move out of Yoongi's house. Yoongi, instead, moves back into his own bed, this time with Taehyung on his right. He sleeps better than he has in weeks with Taehyung curled into his side, warm and comfortable.
The paranoia doesn't go away. Yoongi finds himself waking up to bumps in the middle of the night, heart beating a mile a minute and chest heaving, a mirage of Collins made up of shadows in the doorway. There are nights when he hurls himself out of bed, awoken by the loud crack of a gunshot, stumbling through the bedroom to flick the lights on—to destroy the shadowy figure standing just a few paces away. And there are other nights where he doesn't move, eyes squeezed shut and forcibly regulating his breath like Seokjin taught him.
Taehyung wakes up with him each time. Waits, laid out completely still, until Yoongi reaches for him. Only then does he press himself to Yoongi's side, arm draped around his middle and head resting against Yoongi's chest to feel it rise and fall.
Taehyung often falls back asleep quickly after, whether he's tucked up to Yoongi or holding his— doesn't comment on the fact that Yoongi lays awake for hours afterward, listening to Taehyung's quiet breathing.
And Yoongi does the same for Taehyung—when Taehyung wakes up, chest heaving, crying out that his lungs are full of smoke and the room is engulfed in flame. Yoongi tucks him in close, lets his shiver and shake as Yoongi whispers reassuring words into the crown of his head until he falls back asleep.
“You know,” Taehyung says one of those nights, a week into the investigation process. “I meant it—what I said on… on comms during flight.” Taehyung is curled into Yoongi’s side, the warm light from the living room lamp creeping into the room like a nightlight—just enough to ensure Collins doesn’t step foot through the doorway.
Yoongi hasn't fallen back asleep since he startled awake an hour ago, but the sound of Taehyung's voice doesn't surprise him. What Taehyung says doesn't surprise him, either.
"I know," Yoongi replies, thumb rubbing circles into the skin of Taehyung's back. "I didn't. Before."
“Didn’t?”
"Wasn't sure," Yoongi clarifies, and has to breathe a laugh at himself. "It's not something I'm very confident about. Obviously, I'm not very likable."
It's a quiet dig to the Admiral, but Taehyung doesn't acknowledge it. "You're sure now, though?" Taehyung asks quietly instead.
Yoongi had realized, albeit a bit slowly, that Taehyung has proved it through actions more than words. It's in the delicate way he will wash Yoongi's face for him, fingers gentle and so conscious of his movements. It's in the way he will whisk Yoongi away on their only time off to spend the day at the beach painting, sharing a little piece of himself—his art—with Yoongi. It's in the way he always finds a reason to spend time with him; cooking, watching a show, practicing drills. Even while doing separate things, Taehyung gravitates toward him, the two of them working in comfortable silence, side by side.
Yoongi smiles up at the ceiling, still dark enough that Taehyung can’t see it. “Yeah,” he says. “I… I got it.”
"Ok." Taehyung nods just slightly, as if not realizing he's still cuddled up to Yoongi. "That's—that's good."
Yoongi pauses to swallow, chest unnaturally tight with a burst of nerves like a thousand flowers suddenly blooming in his ribcage.
I’ve loved you since the first time I saw you.
And Yoongi has never been the best with words—living in a family that refused to speak of their own grief, rejecting their own feelings in favor of pretending that they simply don’t exist, there was never a moment for him to try.
But he can try now.
With Taehyung, he can try.
“I didn’t know there was something I could want more than flying. Thought it was all I’d want after the crash. You showed me there’s more to it,” Yoongi says softly. “More to life than just flying.”
"So poetic," Taehyung says, and just from the lilt in his voice, Yoongi can almost picture that cocky little grin on his face. "You come up with that all by yourself?" He breaks into a low chuckle when Yoongi huffs.
"Shut up," Yoongi grumbles and starts to move his arm away from where it's resting against the slope of Taehyung's back in retaliation.
“You know I can’t.” Taehyung hugs Yoongi closer to him, grip tight. Even if Yoongi can’t see the smile that must be on Taehyung’s face, it’s still contagious. “You’d miss me too much.”
“God—”
“Come on,” Taehyung urges. “Keep going. I wanna hear.”
“You were different from everything else. I don’t know how to explain it,” Yoongi continues. “And I didn’t—I didn’t know if you’d ever feel the same. You were untouchable, in a way. With the mission and training and Chaplin, I didn’t want to risk it. Didn’t want to risk losing you, even if it meant not saying anything.”
Taehyung makes a soft noise. "Looks like we were on the same page there."
"Hey, I was gonna take my confession to my grave," Yoongi teases. "You, on the other hand…"
Taehyung groans. “I’m never going to live that down.”
“Not once Seokjin gets his hands on it, that’s for sure.”
Taehyung laughs, and it has Yoongi laughing with him. It's so easy to do, so infectious—his laugh, his smile, his energy.
“You never actually confessed, you know,” Taehyung says, voice full of his smile, and it’s meant to be a playful comment—Yoongi can tell.
But Yoongi falters, laugh dying in his throat as the information slowly settles in his mind; he really hasn't confessed, has he? At least not properly. He's ducked around saying it aloud, hiding behind the chaos of their present lives. But with Taehyung right there at his side, so warm and comfortable against him in the faint glow, he doesn't have much of an excuse, does he?
And it’s not like he doesn’t want to say it. It’s just—
“I’ve never said it before,” Yoongi admits, voice barely a whisper.
“You don’t have to. I know—”
“No, I—I want to,” Yoongi says quickly. “I want to.”
“Ok,” Taehyung says.
“I want to,” Yoongi repeats, throat constricting around his words. “I just…”
It's after a beat of silence that the sheets rustle, and Taehyung moves up to tuck his nose into the crook of Yoongi's neck, almost as if he's shy. "I won't look," Taehyung whispers against his skin. "I promise."
And there, in his bedroom—their bedroom—Yoongi starts to cry. The ugly, wet kind, with fat tears gathering at the corners of his eyes before spilling down his cheeks as his chest heaves, holding back any real kind of sob threatening to escape.
And there, in their bedroom, Taehyung stays still, tucked into Yoongi and just waiting patiently.
“I love you,” Yoongi chokes out. “I—So much, sweetheart. Shit—So fucking much.”
Yoongi almost shudders when Taehyung pulls away to sit up. He can't make out any features on his face with the way the shadows fall in the room, but he doesn't need to. Not with Taehyung.
“I love you, too,” Taehyung says. “So much.”
In the next second, he ducks his head to press a kiss to Yoongi's lips, wet with tears, and Yoongi doesn't even care that Taehyung can tell he's crying.
–//–
“Captain,” Yoongi deadpans. “Captain?”
“Yes.”
“You’re joking.”
Namjoon sighs, hanging his head. “I knew you’d act like this.”
“Yeah, because what the hell have I done to get promoted to Captain?” Yoongi hisses, eyes a little wide in disbelief.
“Four years of experience as an officer,” Namjoon says simply. “And, you know, bringing in the man who’s been secretly selling intel to outside sources for the past ten years helps a fair bit.”
Yoongi purses his lips. “I was out on leave for a year, my four are interrupted,” he counters. “You’re lying.”
"They're willing to overlook that on the grounds of your skill," Namjoon says, and just by the look on his face, Yoongi can tell he's getting frustrated. "Just—why are you even arguing about this? This could change everything!"
Yoongi glares down at his cup of coffee like it's personally wronged him. "It doesn't feel right," he says. "I shouldn't get the position just because they feel bad."
Namjoon huffs an exasperated breath. "I can guarantee they don't feel bad for you. If they did, they'd have honorably discharged you the second the investigation started. They want you here—that's why they're trying to keep you."
“But I—”
“You can’t stay as an MTI forever," Namjoon says. "If you hadn't been grounded in the first place, you'd be here anyway. You know that."
It’s not exactly true; Namjoon knows that. Namjoon was already higher in rank than Yoongi by the time they flew the mission that grounded him, and it was all because Yoongi wanted to fly. Yoongi wouldn't be Captain even if the mission hadn't happened, if he hadn't been shot down, because Yoongi wouldn't have accepted the position.
Flying was his life.
"I don't know," Yoongi says finally. His coffee reflects a watery image of his face back to his, barely distinguishable, but he can see his own apprehension despite it. "Let me think about it?"
Namjoon is looking at him curiously—Yoongi can tell just from the silence. It must be strange, he supposes, to sit in front of someone who isn't jumping at the chance of promotion. It's a big deal in the Air Force; why wouldn't he want to move up rank?
“Ok,” Namjoon says. “You’ll tell me if you change your mind?”
Yoongi isn’t sure he will, but he nods anyway.
–//–
Taehyung is painting when Yoongi emerges from his bedroom—their bedroom—the morning before another round of questioning. He'd dressed quickly, already fed up with the fact that he has to go in on a Saturday, but the second Yoongi's eyes find Taehyung in the living room, the frustration seems to melt off of him.
And it's so simple, really. Taehyung is just sitting there, a tarp spread out across the carpet in the living room and a canvas propped up on a box so he can paint. His back dips as he leans forward, entirely concentrated on his work, and it's so simple.
Yoongi isn't really thinking—he certainly doesn't have much of a plan—when he clears his throat. Taehyung perks up to look back at him immediately, and there's a smile on his face at the mere sight of Yoongi.
And really—
It’s so simple. Maybe even the easiest thing in the world.
“What are we?”
Taehyung falters, blinking at Yoongi in confusion. “What?”
Yoongi's heart catches up to him, beating wildly in his chest as everything finally sinks in. "Us," he presses on. "I—We didn't… say."
“I don’t understand,” Taehyung says with a nervous laugh, lowering his brush.
They confessed—in their own weird little way, sure, but they had. That was the hard part. Finally letting all those emotions out, honesty bubbling up from his chest into his throat and out past his lips. That one exchanged, hindered by years of guilt and apprehension. That was finally over.
The simple part, though? That was just a matter of recognizing everything Yoongi has thought all along; that Taehyung belongs here. With him.
The hard part is done, and now all that's left is this;
“We never decided what we were,” Yoongi says, albeit a bit awkwardly. It’s not what he intends, but he isn’t nervous. The honesty doesn't scare him anymore. "Dating, or… whatever." He waves his hand, sighing a bit of a laugh at how stupid it sounds.
Understanding finally crosses Taehyung's face, and he smiles, a little lopsided. "We can be whatever you want to be," he says.
Yoongi huffs. “That’s not what I asked.”
“I’d marry you right now,” Taehyung says, almost like a challenge. Yoongi’s eyes widen comically, and Taehyung just laughs, his own eyes crinkling with it. “As long as it’s you, I’ll take whatever you want.”
And Yoongi wants everything. Wants the good, and the bad, and the slow, and the fast. Wants to find Taehyung painting in the mornings, and wants to fall asleep with Taehyung next to him.
“I want… you.” Yoongi’s voice comes out uncharacteristically soft. It’s vulnerable, the way he says it—the way it’s just the two of them there, in the early morning, together. “Just you.”
And it’s so fucking simple.
“Ok,” Taehyung says. “As long as you’ll have me.”
–//–
“Have you ever been to court before?”
“No,” Yoongi says, quickly glancing to his side. Adora stands there with her arms crossed, staring at the judge’s bench with an unreadable expression. “It’s my first time.”
Adora smiles. “Pretty good first case if you’d ask me.”
The room is a mess of chatter around them, but in that moment, it feels like they're alone; like it's just the two of them frozen in time amongst the chaos.
“Hopefully it’s my last,” Yoongi grumbles.
He knows he should be ecstatic. Only moments ago did the judge give the final ruling—only moments ago did he watch former Admiral Collins get carted away in handcuffs. It should be the best thing that's ever happened to him.
Yoongi had expected it to be different.
“I never thought I’d finally see it,” Adora says with just the slightest shrug of her shoulders. “But he’s gone. Actually gone.”
“Maybe they’ll leave us alone now.”
"Oh, I highly doubt it." Yoongi startles at the sound of Colonel Martin's voice amongst everyone else's, and he turns once again, only to find him on his other side. He nods at him in greeting and meets Adora's eyes as well. "We're just getting started."
Adora scowls, narrowing her eyes at him. “That’s not funny.”
“Come on,” Martin says, nudging Yoongi and Adora toward the grand double doors. “Let’s get some air.”
Together they weave through the crowd of people from the public gallery. No one seems to notice as they dip out of the room and into the hallway, and if they do, they don't mention it as the three of them disappear through a side door out into the garden. It's there for decoration and shorter recesses, but it's pretty nonetheless, full of topiaries and different colorful flowers in bloom.
Above them, the sun is setting, streaks of gold and pink painted across the sky. The day at the courthouse had been long, but Yoongi hadn't realized just how long.
"It's kind of weird," Yoongi says offhandedly to fill the silence. "Feels… unsatisfying."
Colonel Martin looks well-rested for the first time in months, a content smile on his fresh face. Yoongi is fairly certain the ruling has everything to do with it. “That’s not really a bad thing,” he says. “What were you expecting to feel?”
“I don’t know.” Yoongi shrugs. “Better, I guess.”
Adora sighs. "I get it," she says. "I thought after all of it I'd feel different, but now that it's over, I just… Don't feel anything at all."
“It’s weird,” Yoongi repeats. “What do we even do now?”
Martin clears his throat, and when both Yoongi and Adora raise an eyebrow at him, his smile turns sheepish. "Well, if you'd like, the Force would gladly welcome you back. Both of you."
Yoongi’s eyes widen, and suddenly the Force’s sudden desire to bring Yoongi back as a Captain makes a whole lot more sense.
"We need you both," Martin says. "Collins was just the tip of the iceberg. We have no idea how much intel outside sources have now, or if there are any other conspirators—which there no doubt are. You two are our best bet at retracing his steps."
And it's a little funny, Yoongi will admit, how many times the team has tried to convince him to do that exact thing without even knowing. He can't even count the number of times Hoseok has tried to pep-talk him into rejoining the Force to bring some sort of balance. None of them knew, and yet they all believed in him despite it. Even before everything was revealed and Collins was brought into custody, they all supported him, almost blindly.
Maybe it wasn’t all for nothing.
“Could I really come back?” Adora asks quietly, almost sounding shy.
“To your full position,” Martin assures.
Adora purses her lips. “It sounds like a scam,” she says. “Too good to be true.”
Yoongi can't help but breathe a laugh. "That's what I thought," he says, nodding along. "When Joon told me they wanted me back as Captain, it was—yeah, too good to be true. I don't want a damn pity promotion."
“Believe me, it’s not out of pity,” Martin says, and there’s a smug look on his face that he doesn’t even try to hide. “They’re desperate, sure, but they need you. With everything that’s been uncovered, you two are the only ones close enough to really make a dent.”
Yoongi has no inclination not to believe him. Martin was right about Collins, after all. The only reason anything came to fruition was because of the Colonel’s foresight to tell Yoongi. But even with that, he's still apprehensive, crossing his arms over his chest as he thinks it over.
“Being Captain is just… It’s more than that, though,” Yoongi says. “I don’t know if… If I can do it.”
“What if I ask nicely?”
“Chris—”
“I’m not going to force you,” Martin says, holding his hands up in defense. “But I think you’re more than capable. I know you are.”
Yoongi opens his mouth and then promptly shuts it, unsure of what to say. The three of them lapse into silence as they stand there outside. Yoongi stares up at the sky and watches as the colors mix and the clouds move, chewing on the inside of his cheek.
It's not that it's necessarily a difficult decision to make, per se, but actively choosing to return to the Air Force after everything that has happened isn't what Yoongi was really planning to do. Not that he actually has a plan of any kind, but still. He'd expected to find himself in an odd sort of limbo after the mission was complete— after his instruction period ended and he was no longer needed.
And this isn't what he'd wanted from the beginning. Yoongi hadn't set out to join the Force to move up in rank or become some grand leader high up in ranks. He'd always just wanted to fly like his grandfather once had.
But—
“Ok,” Yoongi finally says.
Martin raises his eyebrows in question. “Ok?”
"Yeah," he sighs. "I accept."
Saying it aloud feels stranger than watching Collins get dragged away in handcuffs, almost like that was the real burden to be taken off his shoulders. He does find a sense of relief in the words, though, a small smile spreading on his face.
“I’m in too, then,” Adora says, nodding. “I’m not stopping until this fucker is completely dealt with.”
“Well then, Captains.” Martin claps his hands together, grinning. “Welcome to the Air Force.”
–//–
The Hope is packed.
The only reason Yoongi even manages to find a parking space is because Hoseok has one reserved for him, a motorcycle spot painted in specially. He slides in next to Seokjin's flashy convertible and kicks out the stand. Taehyung is immediately slipping off the back and all but dragging Yoongi to the bar, that familiar boxy smile front and center on his face as he goes.
Even from the noise bleeding through to the outside and the sheer amount of cars in the lot, Yoongi still isn't expecting to pull open the doors to the sound of excited cheering. His eyes go wide as he and Taehyung step inside, and the crowd starts shouting at their entrance.
Jimin is in the middle of it all with a bright grin, almost as if he was waiting for them. "You made it!" he cries over the noise, and then Yoongi is being tugged forward once again, Taehyung's laughter trailing behind him as Jimin leads him toward the bar.
“What’s going on?” Yoongi asks over the noise, eyebrows furrowed.
Jimin looks back briefly, and his grin doesn’t fall. “We’re celebrating!”
Taehyung just shrugs when Yoongi glances at him for answers and ushers his forward even more. When they finally break through the crowd, Yoongi is almost relieved to find Hoseok and Seokjin playfully bickering behind the bar like normal. They manage to find a few stools, and in the midst of all the chaos, Yoongi doesn't even notice the third figure tending the bar until he appears in front of him.
Jungkook fully laughs at Yoongi’s surprised expression, throwing a rag over his shoulder like he’s been working there his whole life. “What can I get you?”
“I—What the hell are you doing back there?”
“Bartending, obviously.”
Jimin snorts a laugh. “Yeah, trying to,” he teases. “He’s spilled eight drinks already showing off.”
Taehyung chuckles, leaning into Yoongi's side. "Finally, something he's bad at!"
Jungkook’s pout is perfectly overdramatic. “It’s a learning curve!”
"Sunny didn't listen to me when I said not to let him back here," Seokjin says as he finishes up a drink. "And look what happened."
“Nothing has happened!”
"You've already had to change your pants. I'm pretty sure that's something," Seokjin says. He playfully rolls his eyes in Yoongi's direction at Jungkook's antics. "You want the usual?"
Jungkook gasps. “I’m taking his order!”
“Do you even know what it is?”
“No, that’s why I asked—”
Jimin sighs, and Yoongi can't help but smile as he watches the pilot dramatically drop his head to the counter of the bar with a thunk. The energy in the bar is intense, and it could almost be overwhelming, but it's also comforting in a way. Yoongi finds himself sinking into the atmosphere, at ease with the bustling and loud chatter surrounding him.
Hoseok, who has been pouring shots since Yoongi arrived, finally breaks away to greet him with a dazzling smile and happy shout. "You came!"
“Of course I came,” Yoongi says. “Wouldn’t miss it.”
“Drinks on me!” Hoseok cheers, dipping to grab a few bottles.
“Drinks are always on you,” Taehyung teases, eyes crinkling with his smile. “You own the place.”
Seokjin bursts into laughter at the betrayed look on Jungkook’s face as Hoseok pours Yoongi’s drink and pushes it toward him.
Yoongi takes a quick sip. “Where’s Namjoon?” he asks, instinctively looking around for him.
“Oh, you know.” Seokjin waves his hand dismissively. “Beating a bunch of the younger officers at chess.”
"He whooped Bunny's ass earlier," Jimin adds, just to watch Jungkook throw his head back and groan in frustration.
Yoongi cranes his neck to look over the crowd of people, and sure enough, out on the floor where the billiard and ping-pong tables are, Namjoon is nestled amongst the players at the tiny chess board. There's a circle of people surrounding him, watching with rapt attention as he moves his pieces against his opponent.
Yoongi laughs at the scene and takes another drink, scanning the rest of the bar as Taehyung, Jungkook, and Jimin delve into a conversation around him. Now that he's actually inside, the chaos isn't as concentrated as it had been when he and Taehyung first walked in. It's easier to pick apart the different groups hanging about; some squadrons chatting together, some officials Yoongi knows from back when he was an officer himself, and even some locals have joined in.
That being said, Yoongi isn’t necessarily expecting to find Adora at the bar, but when his eyes land on hers, he also isn’t very surprised to see her. Adora sits amongst a group of people Yoongi doesn’t know, a warm smile on her face and a shine in her eyes that Yoongi has never seen before.
Happy.
Adora looks happy.
And when Adora catches his gaze from across the room, her smile doesn't waver. She simply lifts her glass, and Yoongi, all the way at the end of the bar, lifts his glass as well. An unspoken understanding between the two of them, just like the instance at the police station weeks ago.
"There he is!" Seokjin's voice drags Yoongi back to the conversation at hand, and he tears his eyes away from Adora just in time to watch Namjoon join them, a dimpled smile on his face. Seokjin drags him by the collar of his shirt to lean over the bar and press a kiss to his lips. "Did you win?"
“Haven’t lost once,” Namjoon responds, breaking away with a bright flush high on his cheeks. He turns his smile to Yoongi, nodding in greeting.
“Here,” Jimin says, hopping from his stool. “V, we’re dancing. Take his seat.”
Taehyung spares one last glance at Yoongi before he and Jimin hurry off into the crowd. Jungkook shouts after them, slaps his towel down, and in the blink of an eye, he's hopping over the bar counter and rushing after them.
Yoongi laughs at the way Namjoon just shrugs and takes the stool next to Yoongi, shaking his head fondly.
“So,” Namjoon says, cocking his head to the side. “You decided to stay in the Force, huh?”
Yoongi hides his smile behind the lip of his glass. “Guess I figured out what I wanna be when I grow up.”
Namjoon snorts. “Sure it didn’t have anything to do with the sneaky conversation you and the Colonel had at the courthouse?”
"Oh, so now you're paying attention?"
“After all this, I don’t think I’ll miss anything ever again,” Namjoon jokes, but there’s an underlying sense of honesty to it.
After everything that's happened, there's no way any of them will ever look at anything the same. Any sense of trust they once had in the Force has been forcefully stripped away from them and trampled on—it's what had convinced Yoongi to accept the position in the end. That knowledge that even if they can't trust their higher-ups, they will always have each other, and Yoongi has to be there for that to happen.
“We won’t,” Yoongi promises. “I’ll be there with you.”
Namjoon looks left and right before leaning over the counter to grab one of the bottles behind the bar, popping off the easy pour spout. "Cheers to that," he says and clinks his bottle to Yoongi's glass, "co-Captain.”
“Never say that again.”
Namjoon smiles behind the neck of the bottle. Yoongi smiles right back at him.
"So, what's the deal with all this?" Yoongi asks after taking a sip, motioning to the crowd of people milling about. "Why the hell is the whole town here? Sunny said we'd just be celebrating our win with the mission."
At least, that’s what his text had said. Considering the injuries between Yoongi and Taehyung, and the entire debacle with the Admiral, the entire team hadn’t had a chance to have an actual night out to celebrate their win—because they did complete the mission, even if everything else went to shit.
Yoongi had even skimmed through the report a few days ago, rolling his eyes at the countless inked-out paragraphs. Even after being officially promoted, he still has no clearance, and from the exasperated look Namjoon had given him when delivering the report, he doesn't have any either.
In the back of his head, Yoongi makes a mental note to look into that on his first day back on base.
"They all heard about Chaplin's sentence and came to celebrate with us," Namjoon says, and there's a fond look in his eye as he surveys the room. "You're a local hero."
Yoongi just gives him an unimpressed look.
Namjoon has always loved the strange little community the Air Force brings together—he says it all the time. It's constantly changing, officers moving in and out with different assignments and campaigns, but even so, there's a sense of comradery between everyone on base. It's not always the easiest to spot, but in moments like these; in moments where everyone is gathered together, even though they may not know each other; in moments where everyone comes together despite it all.
Yoongi being a local hero, however, is a little far-fetched.
"I mean it," Namjoon continues, meeting Yoongi's unimpressed look with a genuine one. "You changed things. It might not look like it, but you did. All these people know it."
And it makes sense, he supposes. The enthusiastic greeting from everyone when he walked in, the general happy nature inside. But how warranted is it, really?
“Doesn’t feel like it,” Yoongi admits quietly.
"You figured everything out," Namjoon says firmly. "If it wasn't for you, Chaplin would still be Admiral."
“But it’s my fault any of that happened in the first place,” Yoongi counters. “No one would’ve gotten hurt if it wasn’t for me—“
“You saved Taehyung’s life,” Namjoon says. “If it wasn’t for you, he wouldn’t be out there dancing with the kids right now.”
Yoongi looks out to the floor, where Taehyung and Jimin are swaying together to the music, twin smiles on their faces. He's so beautiful, glowing with energy and light as he moves, and Yoongi's chest constricts just at the sight of it.
“I just—”
“No one could’ve known,” Namjoon says. “You saw what happened to Adora—Chaplin made sure it was buried.”
Hoseok leans over the counter into their space with a smile. “It’s true,” he says. “I never would’ve even considered it—I thought he was just a dick.”
“You guys are trying really hard to make me feel better.”
Namjoon chuckles, shaking his head. “Just trying to show you what we see,” he says. “Too bad you don’t listen.”
Yoongi groans. “Please.”
“There isn’t anything to discuss,” Hoseok says. “You saved his life. That’s what matters most, now.”
Taehyung catches his eye from across the room, head tilted to the side in question. Yoongi just smiles.
“Yeah,” Yoongi finally says. “I guess it does.”
He hadn't really thought about it; hell, Yoongi hadn't even thought twice about flying after Taehyung during the mission. It'd just been second nature, something driving him to it. Because he loves him.
Yoongi really, really loves him.
Seokjin’s voice floats through the chatter, that sarcastic tone impossible to miss. “Wow. You’re down bad,” he says. “Sounds like insubordination to me.”
"You literally married your lieutenant," Yoongi deadpans.
“Anyone need a refill?” Seokjin quickly changes the subject, his ears flushed red. “Sunny’s paying!”
The night passes neither slow nor fast. It's a happy medium, filled with laughter and drinking and a warmth that can only grow with familiar faces and happy people. Yoongi spends most of his time at the bar aside from a few games of pool (and when Namjoon sweeps the floor with him in a game of chess).
And it’s fun. The energy dies down eventually, the bar slowly clearing out as the night stretches on, but Hoseok manages to keep his smile on throughout the entire time as he tends the bar. Seokjin even makes his way out from behind the counter once everything has calmed down and drags Namjoon away from the chess table to dance.
Jungkook is hammered, leaning on Jimin for balance. The two of them sway with his body weight, but Jimin doesn’t seem to mind, laughing lightly at his pouty voice when Jimin tries to guide him outside to the car.
It's a perfect night—a perfect way to celebrate the end of the mission and the beginning of something new.
It’s throughout the night that Yoongi hears about everyone’s plans in snippets; Jungkook is heading back to join the fighter squad, and Jimin is following him there. Hoseok is happy where he is, behind the bar and on the ground. Namjoon has a new assignment on base already, one that he and Yoongi will work on together. And Seokjin is, of course, still at the hospital doing what he does best.
And Taehyung—
Taehyung is staying.
Yoongi hadn't expected it. He's not sure what he'd been expecting, exactly, but it wasn't for Taehyung to shrug and say he'd stay with the Force for a little longer.
And maybe it has something to do with Yoongi, or maybe it doesn’t. But he's staying.
“Hey,” Taehyung says, when the bar is almost empty and the music has been turned down.
Yoongi peers up at him from his stool and watches the way a smile spreads on Taehyung's face at the attention. "Hey."
"Are you ready to head home?" Taehyung asks, fingers tracing the line of Yoongi's arm softly. He looks tired, but he also looks happy.
“Yeah,” he says, nodding at Hoseok behind the bar. “We can head out.”
“Have a good night!” Hoseok calls, waving enthusiastically as Yoongi slides off the stool.
“I’ll see you later, Sunny,” Yoongi says, and it’s more of a promise than anything.
Yoongi follows Taehyung outside, just like he had at the start of the night. He realizes, belatedly, what Taehyung had said; how he had said home and didn't mean his own place. Maybe not purposeful, but as Taehyung slides onto the back of his motorcycle without hesitation, completely different from the first time, Yoongi finds himself smiling.
–//–
Yoongi isn't nervous for his first day back on base as Captain—not really. By the time he's gotten dressed and is ready to head out the door, he's more determined than anything. Sitting around and doing nothing for the past few days, with no questioning or assignments on base, has made him restless.
And he is, he has to admit, a little excited. Not once in his life did he ever expect to feel excitement toward a Captain’s position—a title he had never anticipated to hold—but here he is. Yoongi thinks, distantly, that it might be Taehyung’s fault—this change in attitude.
Not that he’s complaining.
"Hey, sweetheart," Yoongi says, phone sandwiched between his ear and shoulder as he pulls on his shoes, "I'm heading to base now."
“I’ll see you there, Captain.”
Yoongi laughs when Taehyung hangs up on him, helplessly endeared. He slips out of the house, not wasting another second.
He takes his motorcycle to base, zipping through the streets until he crosses into the airfield's entrance. Jets are soaring overhead, their deep rumble a sound Yoongi is more than happy to hear as he shows his ID to security. When the gate lifts, Yoongi takes off and slips onto one of the runways, grinning as the road opens ahead of him, smooth and flat.
The base looks the same as it always does, but it's different, somehow. Lighter, in a way. Full of opportunity and room for growth.
And when Yoongi looks up to the sky, so big and blue above him, he's greeted with those contrails he fell in love with the very first time he saw them—fluffy white trails in the shape of a V hanging overhead.
Just for him.